7 Die For Me

by Karen Rose

“You don’t know which newspaper, do you?” Jen asked.

  “No, but it was taken during a march. Claire only moved here four years ago and she’s been dead a year. How many marches could there have been in three years?”

  “So Claire just happened to end up at the same orthopedist here in Philadelphia?” Susannah asked. “The chances seem possible, but remote.”

  “Pfeiffer was recruiting patients for a study to upgrade the microprocessor in the artificial knee,” Vito said. “Maybe that’s what brought both of them together.”

  Daniel nodded. “If Claire knew Simon from the Atlanta doctor, she’d have known he was supposed to be dead. Several of the amputee patients came to his funeral.”

  “She must have blackmailed Simon, too,” Katherine said. “That’s why he killed her.”

  “And the other woman took up where Claire left off.” Nick shook his head. “Cold.”

  “Why now?” Thomas Scarborough asked. “Whoever this second blackmailer is, she continued for a year after Claire died. Why did your father wait a year to come here?”

  “He was running for public office,” Daniel answered, in a way that made Vito believe he’d answered this question himself days before. “He hadn’t made the announcement yet. In fact, his e-mails kept putting off the man who wanted him to run. I guess he figured as soon as he threw his hat in the ring the blackmail price would go up.”

  “So who was controlling your dad’s computer last Sunday?” Jen asked. “Simon or this blackmailer number two? We should look at your father’s computer to find out.”

  Daniel nodded. “I’ll have it priority shipped. How else can we help you, Detective?”

  Vito stepped through the events in his mind. Several things weren’t adding up. “Your father came to Philly to find the blackmailer. But why did your mother come, too?”

  Katherine nodded. “Good question. Your mother was very sick. No doctor should have permitted her to travel.”

  “I don’t know,” Daniel said. “I’ve wondered that myself.”

  “She would have come to see Simon,” Susannah said flatly. “It was always all about Simon.” Her words were tinged with brittle cynicism. “Poor, poor Simon.”

  “How did Simon lose his leg?” Katherine asked.

  Daniel shook his head. “My parents liked to tell everyone it was an accident.”

  “But we knew better,” Susannah said. “We lived far out, past town. There was this old man who had a small place about a mile in back of ours. He had a collection of antique traps. One day a bear trap turned up missing. Everyone knew Simon had stolen it, but he had a silver tongue and convinced everyone he had no idea who’d taken it.”

  “He got trapped in it,” Vito said. “Who found him?”

  Daniel looked away. “I did. He’d been missing for a day, and we’d all split up to find him. I found him, bleeding, in terrible agony. Simon had no voice left. He’d screamed for hours, but there wasn’t anyone around to hear him.”

  Vito felt a chill go down his back. There was the connection.

  “And he blamed me,” Daniel continued heavily. “Until the day he left, he believed I’d known where he was and left him to suffer. I didn’t. But no one could make him see the truth. Simon was mean before he lost his leg, but after . . .”

  Susannah closed her eyes. “After, Simon became a monster. He ruled our house. My mother became devoted to him, which I’ve never fully understood. But I’m certain if she thought he was still alive, she’d beg to be taken to him, no matter how ill she was.”

  “Which means your parents either knew all along Simon wasn’t really dead or they found out and then made the trip.” Vito watched the Vartanians’ faces. “But you think at least your father knew all along Simon was alive, or you wouldn’t be worried about what you’d find in the casket once we dig it up.”

  “Yes,” Daniel acknowledged evenly. “Now, we’re tired. If there’s nothing else—”

  “I have two questions.”

  Vito leaned forward to look at Sophie at the end of the table. She’d said not a single word the entire time. “What is it, Sophie?”

  “Agent Vartanian believes his father came looking for the blackmailer. Miss Vartanian believes her mother came looking for Simon.”

  Daniel was watching her with deliberation. “Yes.”

  Susannah had narrowed her eyes, as if she’d just realized Sophie was there. “What is your connection to this investigation, Dr. Johannsen?”

  “I located your parents’ bodies, and I assisted the police in discerning their identity.”

  Daniel’s jaw cocked. “All right. So what are your questions?”

  “You said you found your parents registered in the hotel under your mother’s name.”

  “Our parents must not have wanted anyone to know they were searching for Claire Reynolds,” Susannah said stiffly.

  “I’d be inclined to agree, except for a few things. First, you said the hotel staff remembered your mother spending a lot of time alone in the hotel room.”

  “She was sick,” Daniel said, exasperated. “She stayed and he searched for Claire.”

  “She didn’t stay behind the time your parents visited the library where Claire once worked. And there, your father gave his real name when he asked about Claire. Except, he didn’t ask the librarian or anyone else that could have helped him. Your father chose an old man who spoke no English. My first question is why did your father choose an old Russian man to ask about Claire Reynolds and have that Russian man be the only one to whom he revealed his real name?”

  Vito wanted to kiss her. Instead he calmly asked, “And your second question?”

  “Why did he bring the pictures to Philadelphia? I mean, if he was being blackmailed with the pictures, then why bring them and chance being caught with them? Why not leave them at home in his safe? For that matter, why did he keep them at all?”

  Dark spots of color stained Susannah Vartanian’s cheeks. “Are you suggesting that our parents killed Claire Reynolds?”

  Don’t mention the game, Sophie, Vito thought. Don’t mention Clothilde.

  “Not at all, Miss Vartanian. I’m suggesting your father didn’t want anyone to know he was searching for Claire, so he hid his identity. And I’m suggesting that he wanted your mother to believe he was looking openly.”

  Understanding filled Susannah’s eyes. “Mother didn’t know about the blackmail,” she said woodenly. “She just thought they’d gone to search for Simon.”

  “But your father never intended for her to see him,” Vito murmured.

  “Because he knew Simon had been alive all this time and didn’t want Simon to tell our mother,” Daniel finished grimly. “And it has something to do with those pictures.”

  “But she did see Simon,” Susannah whispered. “Because he killed her. My God.”

  Vito looked at Liz, his brows lifted in silent question. She nodded, so he cleared his throat. “Uh . . . there’s one more thing you need to know. When we found your parents, we also found beside them two empty graves. We weren’t sure why then. Now . . .”

  Susannah paled. “Daniel.”

  Daniel put his arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay, Suze. Now we know. We can be watching.” He lifted his eyes to Vito’s. “Can we see that sketch again, please?”

  Vito put the sketches of the old man and Frasier Lewis side by side on the table in front of the Vartanians. “I’ll make you copies.”

  “Thanks,” Daniel said. “We appreciate—” But Susannah cut him off with a gasp.

  With shaking hands she picked up the sketch of the old man. “I know him.” She looked up, her face now deathly white. “Daniel, I walk my dog every morning and night on a path in the park across the street from my apartment. This man . . .” She pointed to the sketch. “He sits on a bench sometimes.” Her voice shook. “We chat. He pets my dog. Daniel, he was as close to me as you are right now.”

  Vito looked at Sophie. Her expression was one of pained understanding. He
looked back to Susannah Vartanian. “For how long? How long have you known him?”

  She closed her eyes. “At least a year. He’s been watching me for a year.”

  “We can give you protection,” Liz said. “The one thing we can hope for is that he doesn’t know you know he’s alive. Come with me. I’ll get you both settled for the night.”

  Thursday, January 18, 9:15 P.M.

  “Vito, wait.”

  Vito stopped outside the precinct’s front door. Katherine stood there, shivering, and his defenses went up. He’d managed to avoid her since the night before, but their avoidance dance was apparently over. “How long have you been waiting here?”

  “Since the debriefing ended. I figured you’d come down sooner or later.”

  Vito looked over his shoulder to where Sophie stood in the lobby with Nick and Jen.

  Katherine followed his gaze. “You’re not letting her out of your sight.”

  “No. Every time I think about him coming to her museum and touching her . . .”

  “Vito, I’m sorry. I was out of line last night.”

  “No, you weren’t. You were scared. And you were right.”

  “I wasn’t right, and being scared doesn’t make it okay. I said I’m sorry. I would appreciate if you’d forgive me.”

  Vito looked away. “Katherine, I haven’t even forgiven myself.”

  “I know, and that needs to change. You didn’t do anything wrong. What happened to Andrea was tragic, but not your fault and not anything you could have prevented.”

  He stared down at his shoe. “How did you know?”

  “I was there when you saw the results of the ballistics report. I saw the look in your eyes when you realized one of yours had hit her. I saw the way you looked at her when she was first brought to the morgue. Vito, you loved her and she died.” Katherine sighed. “But that’s between you and your soul. I had no right to use that against you.”

  “You were scared,” he said again. “Sophie’s your little girl.”

  Katherine’s lips trembled. “I have known that girl since she was five years old.”

  “How did you meet her? Why are you the mother she never knew?”

  Katherine’s eyes filled. “She said that?”

  “Yes, she did. So why?”

  “She was my daughter Trisha’s best friend in kindergarten. One day Trisha came home in tears. There was going to be this big mother–daughter tea and Sophie wasn’t coming. She didn’t have a mom to bring her.”

  Vito’s heart squeezed. “What about her grandmother or her aunt?”

  “Anna was on tour. Freya had something to do that night with one of her own girls, which was Freya’s norm. Harry was going to bring her, but that kind of negated the whole mother–daughter tea idea, so I offered to pinch hit. I sat there with Trisha on one knee and Sophie on the other. Sophie’s been mine ever since.”

  “What about her grandmother?”

  “Anna cut way back on her touring schedule and bought a house in Philly so that Sophie could be close to Harry. But it was still years before Anna completely gave up her career, so Sophie spent a lot of time with me.”

  “What made Anna finally stop touring completely?”

  “She’d missed so much of her own daughters’ lives. I think she finally realized she’d been given another chance with Sophie and Elle.”

  “Elle?”

  Katherine’s eyes flared in alarm. Then she shook her head. “She’ll have to tell you about Elle. Vito, I’ve seen that girl through every major up and down of her life. I’d do anything to keep her safe. And happy.”

  He looked back at Sophie again. “She’s safe now. I’d like to think she’s happy.”

  “You’re a good man, Vito. I’ve watched you go through lots of ups and downs, too. We’re friends. I hope that one stupid comment on my part won’t erase the good years.”

  “It doesn’t. It won’t. I’d take the bullet myself before I let anything happen to her.”

  “Don’t say that,” she whispered. “It’s not funny.”

  “It wasn’t meant to be. What happened with the body bag, Katherine?”

  “That one she’ll also need to tell you herself.” She lifted on her toes, kissed his cheek. “Thank you for forgiving me. I won’t be so foolish as to risk our friendship again.”

  “German chocolate cake would seal the deal,” he said and she laughed.

  “When all this is over, I’ll make you two cakes. Now I’m beat. I’m going home.”

  “I’ll walk you to your car,” Vito said. “You need to be careful, too.”

  Katherine frowned. “I don’t suppose that was meant to be funny either.”

  “No. Come on.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Thursday, January 18, 9:55 P.M.

  Wow.” Sophie blinked at the cars in Vito’s driveway. “What’s going on here?”

  “I called a mini–family meeting,” Vito said and helped her out of the truck.

  “This is a mini–family meeting? Why?”

  “Several agenda items.” He looked up and down the street, his eyes narrowed, and Sophie shivered. He’d been doing that all the way from the precinct, not once relaxing his guard. But she’d watched him talking to Katherine. They’d made their peace.

  Katherine had told him something, though. It was impossible to miss the questions in his dark eyes every time he looked at her. But Sophie had questions of her own, and he’d had not a spare minute to talk to her since waking that morning at four A.M.

  Even on the ride back to his house tonight, he’d been on his cell to Liz and Nick.

  The state’s transportation unit had been busy over the last few hours, tracing oRo president Jager Van Zandt’s path down I-95 via tollbooth cameras and operators. Van Zandt had come to Philadelphia. Vito had found that very interesting and, on a purely intellectual level, so did Sophie. It was only clinging to that intellectual level that kept her from descending into abject fear. And fear wasn’t going to help anyone.

  “What agenda items?” she asked and he turned her toward the driveway.

  “The minivan belongs to my brother Dino, who’s here to see his five sons who have been staying at my house since Sunday. How long they’ll stay is one agenda item.”

  “Five sons?”

  Vito nodded. “Yeah. Five. It’s been interesting.”

  She lifted a brow. “So now your wanting to sleep over at my house makes a lot more sense. You just wanted a good night’s sleep.”

  “Like either of us have gotten one of those. Dino’s wife’s been in the hospital, so another agenda item is an update on when she’ll get out. The old VW is Tino’s. The Chevy is Tess’s rental car. The Buick is my father’s, and he’s here to meet you.”

  Sophie’s eyes widened. “Your father is here? I’m meeting your father? I look awful.”

  “You’re beautiful. Please. My dad’s a nice man and wants to meet you.”

  Still Sophie held back. “So . . . where’s your bike?”

  His brows lifted. “In the garage with my Mustang. If you’re a good girl I’ll let you see them later.” He hesitated. “Sophie, if this killer is watching you, he’s seen me. I need to make sure my family’s safe. That’s the last agenda item.”

  “I hadn’t thought about that,” she murmured. “You’re right.”

  “Of course I am. Now, my ass is freezing off out here, so let’s go in.”

  Sophie was swept inside a house filled with people. In the kitchen a woman with long, dark curls stood at the stove while a tall man with a little gray at his temples rocked a toddler on his shoulder. At the table a teenaged boy sat with open books, studying. On the sofa a brawny man with silver hair and a child on one knee sat watching a blaring TV. A second kid lay sprawled on his stomach on the living room floor, his eyes fastened to the screen, and a third sat by himself, obviously sulking.

  The only person Sophie recognized was Tino, who looked like Sophie had always imagined the Renaissance artists looked wi
th his long flowing hair and sensitive eyes.

  Vito closed the door and all activity ceased. It was like she’d walked into a spotlight.

  “Well, well.” The woman came to the kitchen doorway, a spoon in her hand and a smile on her face. “So this is the infamous Sophie. I’m Vito’s sister, Tess.”

  Sophie had to smile back. “Deliverer of packages. Thank you.”

  “Someday you’ll tell me what the significance of that toy is and what the heck is wrong with your receptionist. For now, welcome.” Tess drew her into the living room and introduced everyone rapidly. There were Dino and Dominic. The little boy was Pierce, the bigger boy was Connor, the sulking one was Dante.

  Then the big man got up from the sofa and the room seemed suddenly smaller. “I’m Michael, Vito’s father. Tino’s sketch didn’t do you justice.”

  Sophie blinked. “What sketch?”

  “He wouldn’t stop until I drew your picture,” Tino said and took her hand. “How are you, Sophie? You had a bad shock.”

  “Much better now, thanks.” She turned back to Vito’s father. “Your sons are talented and kind men. You should be proud.”

  “I am. I’m also happy to finally see Vito with a woman. I was starting to worry that—”

  “Pop,” Vito warned, and Sophie cleared her throat.

  “Talented, kind, and manly men,” she revised and heard Tess snicker behind her.

  Michael smiled and Sophie knew where Vito had gotten his movie-star looks. “Sit down and tell me about your family.”

  Tess leaned against Vito’s arm as their father escorted Sophie to the sofa as regally as if it had been a throne. “You are so busted. He’s going to worm every last detail from her by the time you leave. Then I’ll worm the details from him.”

  Vito found he didn’t really care. “Sophie can hold her own. We need to talk, Tess.”

  The smile in her eyes faded. “I know. Tino told me the killer you’re chasing came to see Sophie yesterday. She’s got to be unnerved.” They sat down at the table with Tino, Dino, and Dominic. “So talk, Vito.”

  “You’ve all seen the news. We’ve found a field with a lot of bodies. The man who put them there has been watching Sophie. I’m not letting her out of my sight.”